


Trouble

by bioticbootyshaker



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-18
Updated: 2015-01-18
Packaged: 2018-03-08 00:42:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3189359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bioticbootyshaker/pseuds/bioticbootyshaker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian never expected that spending the night with Felix would lead to so much trouble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trouble

_Maybe I like trouble._

 

The first time Felix spoke the words, Dorian smiled. He had always admired a bit of a rebellious streak, and Maker knew he had gotten into his fair share of trouble. But it was when Felix repeated the words, softer and a little closer — where Dorian could feel the words on his lips — that he understood Felix’s meaning.

 

The sensible thing to do would have been to gently but firmly tell him no, and put some space between their bodies. After all, his father was Dorian’s patron and had been gracious enough to take him into his home and under his wing, and the last thing he wanted to do was break the faith Alexius had placed in him or tarnish his relationship with his son.

 

But since when had Dorian ever been sensible?

 

The way Felix kissed… he was all tongue and heat, his body thrumming with want and boundless energy. Dorian was fond of the electricity, the almost painful spark that struck him when Felix kissed him… but he much preferred to take his time. There was something new to explore between them, with enough heat and spark to burn long and strong; there was no sense in rushing.

 

Felix shivered when Dorian moved his hands down his body and took powerful hold of him. There was a soft noise — a whimper or gasp of his name — that Dorian kissed silent.

 

When he pulled back, Felix’s lips were bruised and trembling, and he passed his tongue over them before greedily tearing at Dorian’s clothes.

 

"Patience," Dorian chuckled. "You’re being very pushy."

 

"Do you know how long I’ve wanted you?" Felix asked, his voice husky with want. "How long I’ve dreamed of this?"

 

Dorian felt a pang of regret. He knew they should stop, that they walked a dangerous path that would end with Felix being hurt. Yet he was so eager, so pretty with his flushed face and darkened lips and deep, dark eyes. Dorian wanted very badly to pull back and restore sanity in both of them; yet he wanted to move closer, to not let even an inch separate them, even more.

 

“Dorian,” Felix fussed, sighing and tugging uselessly at one of Dorian’s buckles.

 

He laughed, shooing Felix’s hands away and undressing himself. Never one to be ashamed of his body, he stood casually when the last of his fabric fell away, only tensing when an exploring hand touched him, fingertips rough as they moved up the length of his cock.

 

The sensation was some maddening mix of ticklish and painful, and when Dorian opened his mouth — still not sure if he meant to beg Felix to continue or stop — to speak, Felix was moving onto his knees and replacing his fingers with his tongue.

 

"Felix—-" Dorian gasped sharply. His nails curled against Felix’s scalp, his hips pressing forward until Felix pushed against them and held him still. Honestly, Dorian hadn’t expected such boldness from him. All the time he’d known Felix he’d been rather reticent and obliging; Dorian had no idea such passion burned through him. He wondered — as well as he could wonder anything with Felix sliding his mouth down his cock — how it must have hurt him to keep that fire so low and cold, buried under politeness and silence and obedience.

 

"You’ve wanted this that long?" Dorian asked. His breath hitched when Felix sucked roughly on the head of his cock. He nodded with his mouth full of him, eyes turned up to Dorian wide and wild with want and need and love.

 

The first two were easy. It was the third that gave him pause.

 

How many men had Dorian kissed and touched and fucked and said prayers against their skin, only for them to treat him as a stranger in public. Love was a dangerous thing in Tevinter; bloodlines had never been forged through love, and the intimacy between two men was seen as a pleasant dalliance, but there was no permanency to such unions.

 

Felix, though… the way he looked up at him, the way he softly whimpered with desire when Dorian touched him, the way he clung to him as he fucked him and the way he called out his name when he came, toes curled and fingers digging into his back and throat exposed and every ounce of trembling trust laid bare—-

 

"How can you be real?" Dorian asked, breathless, kissing lazily at Felix’s wet skin. "You’re so…"

 

What word described someone so sweet and warm and good?

 

Dorian didn’t know. He let the thought remain unfinished. Felix didn’t seem to mind, snuggling rather adorably against his chest, dull nails tracing up and down Dorian’s back.

 

He was so used to sex being the end, Dorian didn’t know what to do with himself. When he attempted to untangle their bodies, Felix whined and pulled him closer, nose brushing Dorian’s throat as he laughed.

 

"Stay," Felix said.

 

Oh.

 

He _did_ like trouble.

 

****

 

_What have you done to him?_

 

The boy Dorian had kissed and touched and felt melt like wax under his fingers was now gaunt and hollow eyed, more cadaver than person. To look at Felix for too long was to feel sharp claws dig deep into his mind and heart; he knew that if he focused on him for long he would not be able to stop himself from tearing Alexius to pieces.

 

Of course he knew how Felix’s illness and inevitable death plagued the man — it haunted him as well, tearing at him like barbed wire wound around his heart — but the abomination before him was no kindness. Alexius had twisted his son into a monster and he had convinced himself he’d done it out of love.

 

Love was not so selfish as to hold on to someone when letting go of them was kinder.

 

Dorian loved him, and seeing what Alexius had done to him…

 

Any sympathy he might have had for his former mentor was lost. He hardened his heart to him, at least to the shade of him that existed in this perverse and twisted future.

 

Dorian stood with the Herald and did what needed to be done.

 

****

 

_There are worse things than dying, Dorian._

 

Perhaps there were, but he honestly couldn’t think of anything worse than losing Felix. He didn’t have the desperation of his father, but even still, Dorian was determined to find a cure.

 

"There’s no cure for the Blight," Felix reminded him, gently. He sat down with Dorian, resting his hand over his when he refused to look up from the heavy tome he was reading. When he did, his eyes were wet and red rimmed. Felix slipped his thumb across his cheek, smiling pityingly, as though Dorian were the one dying.

 

"The Wardens—-"

 

"The Joining is not a guarantee," Felix reminded him. "And what kind of life would that be for me, Dorian? A life of blood and battle and sacrifice?"

 

"You would live," Dorian said. "Last I checked —and I haven’t done much dying, mind you — that was better than the alternative."

 

Felix kept his patient smile, but Dorian could see how tired he was. How long had he go be around in these circles with his father? How long had he gently but firmly spoken of his acceptance of his fate, only to be spoken over?

 

He had watched his father doom the world just to save him; after that, there was little he wanted to discuss about his own health.

 

Dorian closed the book and took Felix’s hands, pulling his knuckles to his mouth and kissing them. “I’m sorry,” he said. “No more tonight, I promise.”

 

His smile changed, became sweeter and stronger. He looked like he had the night he’d come to Dorian, speaking of trouble and smelling of cologne and wine.

 

"I’m here with you now," Felix said. "I want to make the most of it."

 

"And what did you want to do, I wonder?" Dorian asked, turning Felix’s hand to press his lips to his palm.

 

"Let me show you," Felix whispered.

 

He stood and pulled Dorian close. He expected a heated kiss, a slow and sensual move to the bed behind them, but instead Felix tucked his face in the hollow of his throat and let his hands settle at the small of Dorian’s back.

 

"I love you," Felix whispered.

 

"You _do_ like trouble,” Dorian said, and softer, against Felix’s ear, he whispered: “I love you too.”

 

He’d always liked trouble, himself.


End file.
